Disciplined boyfriend by Wabbitboy, Decca555@aol.com A strong woman disciplines her daughter's two-timing boyfriend Deggsie checked himself in the shopwindow. Looking cool. Deggsie prided himself on his appearance, spent most of his allowance on clothes and only the right label was good enough. And going to see Janice, this was doubly important. Five to two, and he was almost there, dead on time. He bounded up the towerblock steps two at a time, too impatient to wait for the lift, then had to stop and catch his breath before ringing the doorbell. He wandered the landing for a few seconds regretting the exertion. It was a hot day and he was sweating enough without knocking himself out needlessly. Cool was important to Deggsie, but he always felt nervous before meeting Janice. He checked his baseball cap in the shiny metal of the lift doors and shrugged his jacket to hang just the right way before pressing the bell. His heart sank as the door was opened by Janice's mother. He had the feeling - no, he damn well knew - she didn't approve of him. "Ah Derek." she said, as if she'd trodden in something. And he hated that name. Mrs Burke was the only person, apart from his mother, who didn't call him Deggsie. What was it about girls' mothers? This ferocious protectiveness toward their offspring, this obsession that every boy was beneath contempt? And in Deggsie's experience, Mrs Burke was worst of the lot. A domineering loudmouth who ran the local residents group with a rod of iron, plastered her windows with neighbourhood watch stickers even though her flat was on the seventh floor and welcomed visitors with a huge 'No hawkers' sign on her door. It did worry him, at times, how much of her mother Janice had inherited. "Is Janice..." he began. "She's gone down to the shops, Derek. I suppose you'd better come in. Wipe your feet." It hadn't rained in weeks, but Mrs Burke liked to let people know to be careful in her house. It was immaculately clean and tidy. Deggsie carefully lowered himself into one of the huge armchairs. "Sit down, please." said Mrs Burke pointedly. Deggsie mumbled something apologetic, not quite knowing why. He sneaked a look at his watch and hoped Janice would be back soon. Then realised he hadn't even noticed the time it showed. He hated the embarrassing effort of making conversation with this stern, humourless woman. She made him extremely nervous, which was probably intentional. "It's hot.", he opened lamely. Mrs Burke didn't reply. She sat down heavily in the armchair opposite him and fixed him with her intimidating stare. "Is Janice likely to be long?" he asked, with an eye to getting outside and hanging around on the grass for her. "As long as it takes." said Mrs Burke. And the conversation, such as it was, ground to a halt. Deggsie sneaked another look at his watch. It was ten past two. "Come on, Janice, come on" ran round and round in his head. Mrs Burke was drilling him with her eyes like a cop in an interrogation room. Was it the hat, he thought? The baseball cap never comes off, he decided. Not even in Mrs Burke's sitting room. But it was getting too much. "Maybe I'll go meet her." he finally said. "No lad, I can imagine you wouldn't be very comfortable here." muttered Mrs Burke. Deggsie didn't quite follow, but had come to the conclusion she was quite mad. He made to stand up. "You can just sit yourself down, young man. Now what have you got to say for yourself?" Deggsie was taken aback. The woman sounded decidedly nasty. He didn't have a reply. "This is a small town, you know." she continued. "I don't know what..." his voice trailed off. Nothing he could say seemed to make any sense, and he felt oddly intimidated by the woman. She was wearing a short-sleeved floral dress, about two decades out of date by Deggsie's reckoning, and was slowly massaging her upper arm with one hand. This was when Deggsie noticed the woman's arms. She was a big- built woman, sure, but he'd never before noticed how damn muscular she was. He found it disconcerting. A bit threatening, even. Deggsie found it disturbing to see such muscles on a woman. And the way she stroked her bicep seemed to be quite deliberate. Deggsie had had enough of this nutzo household. If he met Janice again, which was looking increasingly unlikely, it was going to be at his house, or at least on neutral territory. He stood up. "I'll catch her at the shops." he said and turned toward the door. Mrs Burke was across the room like a shot and grabbed the boy by the ear. Hard. "Yeeeow" he squealed, losing every bit of his carefully studied cool in a fraction of a second. "You think it's that easy, do you, young lad?" snapped Mrs Burke, dragging the boy back across the room by his ear. She continued pulling him around the room in a circle as she harangued him. "Well it's not. I'm not some soft touch. I'm a force to be reckoned with, and anybody who makes a fool of my daughter answers to me." Deggsie was now at a complete loss. He desperately tried to come up with some way of placating this harridan but couldn't even think where to begin. His ear felt like it was about to be yanked off. And he was dreading Janice walking in to catch him being treated like a whiny ten-year-old. "So?" snapped Mrs Burke. "So what?" blurted out Deggsie, not meaning it to sound quite as aggressive as it did. "SO WHAT?" roared Mrs Burke and threw the lad down. Deggsie yelped as he felt his knees hit the floor and just knew he's got a fine pair of carpet burns. Mrs Burke grabbed a clump of hair sticking out the back of his cap and hauled him to his feet. "You haven't got the common decency to apologise, have you?", and she slapped the boy across the face with a force he'd never experienced before. This was all way out of hand. Stunned, Deggsie yanked himself away from the woman's grip, leaving a handful of blond hair clutched in her fist. He threw himself blindly toward the door with the thought only of escape. As he fumbled with the unfamiliar catch, he was grabbed by the right arm and spun around. "And you're a weaselly little coward." "Please, I just want to go..." Deggsie blurted out pathetically. Right now he didn't give a flying fuck about image. He wanted out. Mrs Burke held up her right arm and flexed the bicep. "See that?" she growled, "that's what you're messing with. Not some little girl you think you can spin round your little finger. So. Perhaps you'd like to explain?" Deggsie, dazed, furrowed his brow. The nearest to intelligible speech he managed sounded like "Uh?" "Young man, I've been extremely patient under the circumstances. I'm giving you every opportunity to put your side of the story and you do nothing but insult me with this dumb insolence. Now all I'm asking you to do is explain what you've been up to." Deggsie began a weak-sounding "I haven't...", but before he could continue, Mrs Burke rolled her eyes, tutted, heaved a muscular arm back and swung a fearsome punch between the boy's legs. Deggsie didn't let out a sound. He crumbled to the ground, open mouthed, at first hardly feeling any pain at all, but aware that the room was falling far, far away from him. The rough feel and homely smell of the carpet were strangely comforting, blotting out the reality of what was happening. A dull but ominously throbbing ache was beginning to focus in his back and stomach. Mrs Burke leaned over the boy as he lay doubled up on the floor. "That's the only place you lads take notice of, isn't it? Now you're listening. Well listen to this." and with that, the woman jerked the boy's legs apart and landed another fist directly into his groin. Deggsie passed out. Mrs Burke made herself a nice cup of tea. From the sitting room she could hear slight sounds of retching. When she returned, she found Deggsie aimlessly stumbling around the room on his hands and knees. She strode purposefully over to him and grabbed the collar of his jacket. She yanked it down and down. The boy was too dazed to resist. It took several tugs, but she pulled the jacket off and neatly hung it up behind the door. She placed one foot on the boy's back and pressed him to the floor with a thud. She knelt down beside him and began carefully to unlace his trainers. Once they were off, she removed Deggsie's socks and, carefully as ever, rolled them into a neat ball, placed them into one trainer and put them to one side. Then she sat down to enjoy her cup of tea. Deggsie didn't move. He somehow felt that the less he moved, the less would happen. That all this must soon stop. It didn't. Mrs Burke took the cup and saucer back into the kitchen, to avoid breakages, and returned to Deggsie's prone form. She rolled the boy over onto his back. "Not quite so cocky now, young man. You're learning. Now raise those arms and we'll soon have you stripped." Deggsie didn't raise his arms, dazed more than disobedient, but it didn't matter. Mrs Burke tugged his t-shirt up and off without any help. She couldn't help but give an admiring glance to the boy's torso. He was skinny enough, but his musculature was well-defined. Sweat glistened on his pale, heaving chest, and the woman took a moment to stroke the tattoo circling his left arm. She hated tattoos, especially on a boy who had been dating her daughter, but this seemed appealing to her. Along with his muscles it gave him a look of arrogance, which pleased Mrs Burke, seeing the position she had him in. Deggsie mumbled a feeble "No, no, no..." as the woman unbuttoned his pants. He vaguely tried to brush her hands away from his fly but had lost the will to fight back. Mrs Burke unzipped his baggy pants and easily slipped them down his skinny legs. "Off we come" she piped, sounding positively cheerful. Her day was looking up. Stripped to his underpants, Deggsie felt a panicky sense of vulnerability which sent a burst of adrenalin through his body. As the woman carefully folded his pants, he began to move oh-so- slowly, eyeing the door. He made a start across the room, but was shaky on his legs. Mrs Burke watched him fumble with the catch on the door as she confidently continued to fold his pants. She strolled slowly toward him. Deggsie had finally managed to get the door open as the woman reached him and slammed it shut. He scrabbled with the catch again, but Mrs Burke spun him around. She slammed him back against the door and took a step back. She eyed the boy up and down, his tall, lean frame glistening, the shape of his cock and balls clearly visible in his white briefs, and the red baseball cap still perched on his head. The boy's defeated slouch satisfied her no end. She dragged him back into the centre of the room: "Come on you wimp, defend yourself", she taunted, pushing and pulling the boy's limp body about. He began to make lame attempts to fight the woman off. "That's more like it, let's see what you're made of." She wrestled the boy to the ground and heaved him back to his feet over and over. Deggsie began to regain his strength and retaliate. "Oh we want to fight back do we" snapped the woman. The two of them staggered about the room, knocking furniture into the walls, breaking ornaments. The carefully tended room became a battleground. Mrs Burke had discovered something even more satisfying than housekeeping. At any moment she could have finished off the fight with a swift knee to the balls, but she was getting far too much pleasure from overpowering this cocksure, near-naked boy. She loved the feel of his body giving under her strength, the smell of his sweat, the determined grimace as he tried to fight back. Eventually she forced the boy to the ground and twisted an arm up behind his back. Holding his head firmly in an armlock, she twisted the arm firmly up and up. For a few moments, Deggsie felt he'd had a chance. He could hold his own in a fight. He could break away, once more get the door open, and get to the real world outside. She could keep the fucking clothes. He could run home in his underpants if he had to. He just needed to get through that door. But now he felt it slipping away. He gritted his teeth and tried to blot out the pain, but there was no way he could wriggle out of the woman's grip. His arm felt like it was about to snap. He writhed and struggled but he was held firm. "Submit?", snapped Mrs Burke, with an extra jerk on the boy's arm. Deggsie couldn't bring himself to say it. It was too humiliating to submit to a woman. He felt like his shoulder would be wrenched out. The woman leaned forward and whispered in Deggsie's ear "I can stay like this all day." The boy began to sob. It was clear Mrs Burke had him without any exertion. Sooner or later he was going to submit to her. He nodded silently. "Say it, boy. You've been too damn cocky. Now say it out loud. Say you submit." Deggsie did. Between sobs, over and over. Mrs Burke let him go, moved an armchair back into place and sat down calmly. Deggsie curled up into a ball and began to cry. Mrs Burke smiled to herself. The battle was over. She got up, went to the sofa and pulled out several lengths of cord she'd stashed under the cushion. Mrs Burke was always prepared. "Take those pants off" she ordered. She was pleased with the obedience Deggsie showed. "Give them to me" Avoiding her eyes, the boy meekly sat up and held out his briefs to her. "Now, hands behind your back" Deggsie shuffled round, on his knees, and put his hands behind his back. Mrs Burke tied his wrists. "You boys have to learn to take the consequences of your actions. You think you're smart and clever. Well there's one way to teach you a lesson and this is it. Understand?" Deggsie nodded. But he didn't understand at all. Mrs Burke tied the boy's ankles together. With one foot she contemptuously pushed the boy to the floor. "Do I have an apology?" "I apologise. I really am sorry. Really." mumbled Deggsie, without a clue what he was apologising for. Mrs Burke looked down at his humbled form. It was her first glimpse of Deggsie's penis, flopping helplessly between his thighs. She stifled a smile, to concentrate on the business in hand. She was screwing the boy's briefs up into a tiny ball. She knelt down beside him. "Open" she commanded. Deggsie opened his mouth. "Now you've apologised, there's nothing more for you to say.", and she popped Deggsie's briefs into his mouth, securing them by tying cord around his face. "And now, my boy, you're going where you belong." Mrs Burke bundled the naked boy's knees up under his chin and trussed him up into a neat package with the remaining cord. Noticing the red baseball cap, she plonked it onto Deggsie's head with a grin: "We want you to be recognised, don't we." With that, she hoisted the trussed boy up onto her shoulder like a bag of groceries and headed out of the flat. She carefully locked the door behind her and, still with the naked Deggsie on her shoulder, went for the lift. At the fifth floor, Mrs Morris got in. She was surprised to see Mrs Burke with a bound naked boy on her shoulder but said nothing. "It's Derek Howes. From the new flats." she said, by way of explanation, "He's been seeing our Janice." Mrs Morris eyed the naked lad: "Boys," she said, "what can you do?" The two women nodded in agreement. At the ground floor, Mrs Burke strode out and walked around the flats to the rubbish tips. She heaved Deggsie onto the side of the tip and pulled away the last cord keeping him trussed. He fell, wrists and ankles still bound, into the rubbish. It was nearly an hour before Janice returned. Her mother was waiting for her. "Janice, you've been forever. I was worried. I've got a surprise for you." She led her daughter behind the flats to the rubbish skips. "What is it?" asked Janice. "Look in the skip." Mrs Burke walked off, leaving her daughter peering into the rubbish skip, satisfied that justice had not only been done but was seen to be done, and that, for once at least, a two-timing stud had paid the price. - - - Janice giggled, and blushed slightly, as she looked down into the skip. Unlike all her friends, she'd never seen a boy naked before. She'd begged and begged Deggsie to go with her, but the sad little wimp always held out, saying he wasn't into one-night stands and how much better it would be if they waited. OK, he was cute, but such a goody-goody. It was so embarrassing. When Janice started leaking rumours, about Deggsie being a two-timing stud, she knew that eventually they would get back to her mother. And she knew what her mother was like. But the way it had turned out was better than her wildest dreams. She stood leaning on the skip, watching the naked and gagged Deggsie writhe and struggle, for a long time. She could watch this for a long, long time.